The Legend of the Sword-God
The Legend of the Sword-God is a Ballard written by an unknown poet almost five-thousand years before the start of the Testament Of Fiction Main Story. It is a legend that explains the origin of the Nine Blade-Masters and the significance of the title. Though the characters involved in the Ballard fluctuate between legend and history; it is clear that their weapons genuinely do exist in the world. This is the most famous poem in the land of Morealm; all swordsmen have heard of it around the world. Legends of it have even spread to the global stage. Archaeologists and researchers have marvelled at it for decades; making educated inferences but nothing more... The First Blade Master: Myth of Dragon-Fall --------------------------------------------------- This is the tale of a man, just six foot tall His sword could silence the wind His shield: tough; like castle-wall In his youth he never once sinned But come age and he went to war But his patience slowly thinned And his battles ran red with gore --------------------------------------------------- He claimed to be the very best His flaw, blind, he never saw He chased dragons without rest And ate their flesh red-raw He bathed in blood and sang in zest His body: bruised and sore Then he would promptly joke and jest At skulls of his kin upon the floor --------------------------------------------------- He settled in a cave; made it his nest Lived there dormant for decades: four The beast in the cave; wrathful was his roar The man who neighboured: dragon-fall --------------------------------------------------- In this time he made eight great friends And taught them the art of war Eight whose loyalty never ever bends Nine of them warriors to the core He taught them each one by one And pushed them to death’s door --------------------------------------------------- And then… He took his eight allies to aid him As he declared war on his greatest foe It was a battle of whit’s and whim A battle fought through sun and snow The clash that echoes through time A clash that began five thousand years ago --------------------------------------------------- It was a bout that went down in history It was written down and sung in hymn They fought for many years; Their threads of fate growing thin. --------------------------------------------------- It was a mighty long campaign; The nine of them were chronically tired However; they had slain humanity’s bane They became famed; much admired Though it did not heal their pangs and pain; A generation of heroes they inspired And many more dragons were brutally slain The Sword-God’s glory was envied… desired But his greatest ambition was complete And so, the Swprd-God finally retired --------------------------------------------------- Then tragedy: greater more... Than the death of our great sun Ten years pass; they’d had their run And the eight split four on four --------------------------------------------------- And the four split into two And the two split: nine times one The oldest man felt blue At this conflict that had come --------------------------------------------------- Yet without hesitation... The man did what must be done And he killed the other eight Eight-battles: one on one --------------------------------------------------- He laid his eighth friend down to rest In a scruffy tomb of dirt He prayed the eight of them be blessed But he could no longer mask his hurt He ran far far away: a journey to the west --------------------------------------------------- He set up a new nest: a start of a new life He built a house of wooden board Then trudged down to town in strife He retrieved the treasures he’d stored Then came home with a lively wife He went to town again And at last sold his trusty sword --------------------------------------------------- He lived a peaceful life For fifty five more years His wife departed first Leaving him in tears Broken heart about to burst: He set her tender hands upon her breast And buried her in a storm: the weather was the worst --------------------------------------------------- He suddenly felt tired So laid down for a rest Declared dead moments later His flaw not yet confessed And alas, so it was: The end of his epic quest --------------------------------------------------- The wars, his friends his wife... Many times; had he dodged fate But he had no more dreams to live And so he joined the other eight